


Delayed Delivery

by AuditoryCheesecake



Series: A Cheesecake's Tumblr Shorts [10]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Everyone in this is mess actually, F/M, Marian's a Mess, No one has their shit together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-24
Updated: 2016-06-24
Packaged: 2018-07-16 22:52:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7287892
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuditoryCheesecake/pseuds/AuditoryCheesecake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marian gets a package not meant for her, Beans sticks her nose in where it doesn't belong, and Anders just wants to sleep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Delayed Delivery

**Author's Note:**

> Written for @therealmnemo on tumblr! <3

It was her day off, but she should have known better than to spend it lounging around without a shirt. The doorbell surprised her, since most of her friends would just come in– they had keys, or could pick the lock, or both– and she barely remembered to pull on a jacket before opening the door. There wasn’t anyone there, though.

“Um, sorry.” Marian looked to her right, where some guy in a uniform was pointedly not looking at her chest. She’d forgotten to zip the jacket. Whatever. She had a sports bra on. “Hey, uh, do you know the person who lives here?” He gestured to the apartment across the hall.

“Nope.” She started to close the door.

“Wait!” He sounded a little panicked, and according to her friends, Marian was a patron saint of questionable decisions and lost causes, so she waited. “I’ve tried to make this delivery four times this week, and whoever they are, they’re never home.”

“That sucks?”

“Look, can I… leave it with you? And a note on their door or something?”

“I don’t think I’ve ever even talked to them.”

“All my other deliveries are in Hightown. It takes a lot of time out of my day to keep coming back here.”

Marian raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I feel like this might be the opposite of what your job is,” she told him. “But whatever. Hand it over.”

He did, with a grateful smile and hurried on his way. Marian tugged the door closed and examined the box. It was brown and rectangular. No surprises there.

It was also addressed to someone named “Dr. Hottie McBootypants,” and Marian had never met this particular neighbor, but that couldn’t be their real name.

Well, hopefully it wasn’t a bomb or something. She put it on the table where she wouldn’t forget about it and Beans wouldn’t try to rip it open. Speaking of, she should probably take Beans for a walk.

He was lying on her bed with his paws in the air, but when she stuck her head into the tiny bedroom he scrambled onto the ground, throwing her already messy sheets everywhere. “Good job, Beans,” she muttered affectionately, and grabbed his leash off the floor.

He pranced in happy circles around her as she brushed her hair and pulled on her sneakers, then sat at the door while she looked at the box on the table. Whatever, this Dr. Bootypants could deal with it. She’d knock on their door when she got back, if she remembered.

Beans didn’t tug at the leash, thankfully. He was big enough that he probably would have knocked her over. Marian was strong, but not strong enough to stand up to a newfoundland mix if he decided they should go faster. He was a good dog, and she told him that often. “Let’s go see if Merrill is at the park.”

Beans loved Merrill. She gave them dog treats and scratched behind his ears.

Marian fed some ducks and threw a frisbee for Beans to catch, and forgot to tell Merrill about the box on her dining room table. The note was still stuck to the door across the hall from hers when they got back after dark.

It sat on her table for the rest of the night, and she frowned at it while she ate dinner in front of the TV. It was still there in the morning when Beans woke her up for his morning excursion. One day, she was going live in a house with a yard.

When she opened the door, there was someone standing in the hallway, looking at the note on his door with the hazy befuddlement of the truly sleep-deprived. Marian knew the feeling well.

She had never seen him before, she would have remembered. He was dressed in hospital scrubs patterned with little cat faces, steel-toed boots, and an expression about as apprehensive as her own. He held up the note.

“Yes, that,” Marian said, because she’d only had one cup of coffee so far. He nodded, and took a step into her apartment when she turned around to get the box, leaving the door open behind her. Beans sniffed at his hands, and decided that this stranger was now a friend. “Your box, Doctor McBootiepants,” she said, holding it out. “I didn’t even try to open it.”

“What?” He stared at her, bewildered.

“That’s not your name?” She took the package back out of his hands. “Then I don’t know if I can give this to you.”

“No, it’s mine.” He sighed, but a tired smile slid across his face. “I forgot that I’d put that name on it.”

“What’s your real name, then?” She asked, because she wasn’t wearing any makeup, but she was curious, and Beans liked him. Beans was a good judge of character.

“Anders,” he said, which didn’t strike Marian as much more of a name than Dr. Hottie McBootypants, because it was definitely a place. But whatever.

“I’m Marian, this is Beans.” Beans looked at her when she said his name. “And Beans needs to go for walk. Don’t be a stranger, Anders.”

“Thanks?” He called down the hall after her, and she waved over her shoulder at him.

That probably would have been the end of it, but Beans got into a fight. And Beans, despite outweighing his small feline opponent by a sizable margin, was actually a wimp. So Marian had to intervene and also got scratched by the very angry cat.

They limped home, Beans licking at his nose, and Marian hoping her shirt wasn’t ruined. The little demon had got its claws pretty deep in her.

Thank the Maker the apartment building had an elevator, because she would never have been able to carry his whiny ass up three flights of stairs. “Maybe this will teach you not to stick your face into random holes,” she told him, but she didn’t have much hope. “I’m surprised no one’s scratched your nose up sooner. Pro tip, Beans. If a cat runs underneath something to hide from you, they probably don’t want to be friends.”

Beans whined sadly.

“No sympathy.” She insisted, and let him take his time walking to their door.

“You’re lucky, you know,” she commented as she made herself more coffee. “If you were Carver, I’d already have broken out the antiseptic. But you, Beans Meredith Hawke, are a giant idiot of a dog, and I don’t know if I can put a bandaid on your nose.”

She considered asking the internet, but the last time she’d followed advice she’d gotten online, she and Varric had wound up locked in an abandoned house overnight, probably with ghosts.

It was still early, around the same time of morning that she’d had her one and only interaction with the mysterious Dr. Bootypants. Maybe he was actually a doctor? She was knocking loudly on his door before she had time to change her mind.

He opened it, just as bleary as the last time. “I’ve got to leave for a twelve-hour shift in twenty minutes, what do you want?” He didn’t open his door all the way, just blinked owlishly at her around it. “I don’t think you should have gotten any more of my mail.”

“Nope.” She grinned at him. “I was just wondering, do you actually have medical training? Because Beans got into a fight with a cat and–”

“Is the cat okay?” He was suddenly wide awake and panicked.

“The cat’s fine,” Marian laughed. “Beans is the one who got beat up. And I got a little scratched in the process too.” She held up her arm. “Do you have a first aid kit at least? All I’ve got is rubbing alcohol and some Batman bandaids.”

He glanced at her arm. “That’s not going to cover it. How big was this cat?”

“Massive,” she said. “Practically a mountain lion. I was very brave, you know.”

“I’m sure.” Did he sound impressed? He sounded impressed, she decided.

“If you give me some gauze or something I’ll give you coffee,” she offered.

He smiled, for the first time that she’d seen. Coffee was always the answer. “It’s a deal.”


End file.
